


Homecoming

by amaranthe



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-07-09
Packaged: 2018-04-08 11:52:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4303935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amaranthe/pseuds/amaranthe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alistair has asked Warden Mahariel for her hand in marriage, and returns with her to her clan, where she risks exile for her relationship. Disaster strikes, and the Wardens must save the day. (explicit for future chapter)</p><p>Title change: previously Happy Endings</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Neither said much as they advanced closer to the Dalish encampment. Rana had told Alistair that her people would welcome him, but that they may not approve of their relationship.

If they had been anyone other than the heroes of Ferelden who stopped the Blight in its tracks and slain the archdemon, she would be exiled without question. She wasn't even sure if that was enough. Bringing a shemlen to the camp was bad enough.

"Let me break it to them gently," she told him. "After we tell them about the land."

She'd been elated when he asked for her hand in marriage, but the feeling quickly faded to a small, but constant fear kept in the forefront of her mind. She tried to get out of it, convince Alistair to stay behind and see to the Wardens, to wait until they returned, but her usually silver tongue was dulled. He would hear nothing of it.  _He must have allocated more points in cunning against mine_ , she grumbled internally.

She feared the keeper wouldn't agree to the union ritual or, more likely, exile her for her relationship with a shem. She didn't even consider him a shemlen anymore. He was her heart. But she knew how her people would see him. She hoped Ashalle would be able to help. She'd come to know Alistair in the few days they'd been traveling together, showing him some of their customs.

"He is a lovely boy," Ashalle told her in private one evening as they cooked dinner together. "But I worry for you." She didn't have to say any more than that. Rana knew what she meant.

Rana's stomach tied itself in knots as she approached the crest Ashalle had marked on the map. The camp wasn't far now. They'd be there within the hour.

Alistair followed behind, quieter than usual. She looked back at him to see him lost in his own thoughts. She could only imagine what was going through his mind. Rana reached for his hand and gave it a little squeeze. He met her eyes. She smiled reassuringly. He smiled back, though his brows remained furrowed. 

She let his hand go. It wouldn't do to be spotted fraternizing.

Ashalle glided ahead of them by several strides. "Just up this path, and we should be there in time for supper."

Alistair's stomach growled loudly at that. He grimaced sheepishly turned his head away, placing a gauntleted hand over his abdomen. Rana couldn't even begin to think about eating. She had no problem facing leaders of the nation, armies of darkspawn, or archdemons, but seeing her clan twisted her gut. She'd be lucky to get a clear broth down.

They walked on in silence for another hour. At a rustle of leaves, both Rana and Ashalle stopped in their tracks, while Alistair bumped into the both of them. 

A scout emerged from their right, his bow slung over his shoulder. "Andaran atish'an, sisters. I spotted you from the path. Ashalle, it is good to see you've made it back safely." He looked to Rana and smiled. "It has been too long, lethellan."

She smiled in return. "Too long, lethallin." The scout examined Alistair, but made no move to greet him. Rana cleared her throat and held out a hand, "This is Alistair, my fellow Warden and companion on my journey. I consider him a close friend."

"Then andaran atish'an to you as well. I am Kelath."

Alistair nodded in acknowledgement. "Thank you. Good to meet you, Kelath."

Kelath turned to Ashalle and Rana once more. "Come, the others are eager for your arrival." He led them off the path down a wending trail, leading to the edge of the Sabrae camp. "Welcome home."

Several others in the camp ran over to greet their clansmen. 

Rana grinned. It had been so long since she'd been home, seen these familiar faces. She clasped arms and hugged many of her kin as they relieved them of their packs, guided them to the fire circle, bade them sit, and pushed food and drink at them. Rana's heart swelled and the butterflies in her stomach settled down. She was home.

She almost reached for Alistair's hand but restrained herself and touched his shoulder instead. A familiar gesture, but not intimate. He smiled nervously at her, letting out a held breath slowly.

"I'm okay," he assured her softly, not loud enough for anyone to hear.

She smiled.

Rana stood, raising her arms, and the chatter around them quieted. "I come, not just to see all your smiling faces before I set out once again, but with news as well. Is Keeper Marethari about? I would not share this news without her."

The Keeper stepped into the circle from the crowd that had been slowly gathering. "I am here, da'len," she announced. She stepped forward, arms outstretched. "Oh," she intoned, drawing Rana into a hug, "it is so good to see you."

Rana returned the hug, embracing the older woman. "It is good to be back." They parted. "I haven't seen Merrill yet. Where is she?" she asked.

Marethari's face fell. "She made the decision to leave," she stated quietly.

"Leave?" Rana didn't understand. Merrill was the Keeper's First. "Why?"

"There was a matter she wished to pursue on her own." A moment of silence passed between them, until she finally made an effort at a smile and asked, "You have brought news?"

Rana stood up straighter. "The archdemon is slain," she announced, loud enough for all around to hear, "and the blight has been averted. For my part in this, as a Dalish Grey Warden, the crown of Ferelden offers our people lands near Ostagar to settle."

There was a mixed response from those gathered. Most of what she saw was astonishment, disbelief. Some frowned and grumbled under their breaths. Rana looked around, her face composed, working to keep disappointment from entering her eyes.

Marethari called for quiet and turned to Rana. "This is a wonderful thing you have given to your people, da'len. Ferelden is now safe. And the road ahead may be difficult for the Dalish, but it has been a long time since we have had a place we could call home. We thank you."

It wasn't much comfort. Rana couldn't help feeling that what she was offering was but a silver lining to a storm clouds. She knew that Dalish and human interactions wouldn't resolve themselves overnight or even in their generation. She also knew that many Dalish wouldn't deign to settle the land.

Someone called for stories, and someone else called for wine. Rana spent the rest of the evening regaling her kin on her mission, her journey as a Grey Warden. Alistair was quietly listening, joining in to fill gaps in her stories, but altogether sat back as he watched her be the most animated that he'd ever seen her.

Evening turned to night, night became late night, and Rana had trouble keeping herself from yawning in between words. Some of the older children who jumped at the chance to stay up late expressed their disappointment, but she promised to finish telling them of their times in the Deep Roads the next day to their delight.

"We've prepared a tent for your companion," Marethari told them. "Kelath can show you the way."

Alistair stood. "Thank you, I appreciate that. The food was wonderful by the way."

"We are glad that you've enjoyed it." She nodded graciously in response.

"Well, good night. Rana, I-" He began to say I love you, but she shook her head slightly. He stopped himself. "Good night." Then turned, brow furrowed and followed Kelath through the camp.

"Da'len, your tent is set up in its usual place." She motioned with her hand and Rana's feet tugged her in a familiar direction. Though the camp was always in a new place, the layout remained the same.

The Keeper fell into step beside her. "You've been on the edge of telling me something all evening, but I've yet to hear it," she said gently. "Is there something the matter?"

Rana swallowed, caught off guard but she supposed she shouldn't be surprised her guardian noticed. "Not so much, no," she answered carefully. "But I think it is a matter best discussed in the privacy of one of our tents."

Marethari stopped and raised the flap of a tent. "Well, here we are, at yours. So let's go inside and you can tell me what's on your mind."

Rana stepped in and the Keeper followed, reaching to light the lantern.

They sat across from one another and a moment passed in silence. The butterflies in Rana's stomach returned and she fiddled with the fringe of her battle skirt.

"What is it, da'len? What is the matter did you want to discuss?"

Rana had gone over this conversation in her head a million times, but her planned speech left her and her tongue felt like cotton. She stared at her hands. She didn't know where to begin. "Alistair," she finally blurted. "My companion." She stopped. What came next?

"Yes? What about him? He is very quiet for a human."

Rana looked up, meeting her guardian's eyes. "We've become very close," she admitted, "in our journey together. I... we..." She licked her lips. Might as well be out with it. "We've fallen in love, Keeper." There. She said it. "We would ask if you would marry us."

Silence stretched between them. Rana couldn't read the expression on her guardian's face, impassive as it was.

Eventually Merethari sighed. "I suppose I've seen how he looks at you and how you avoid looking at him."

"As a Warden, I will be spending my life apart from the clan, among humans, qunaris, dwarves, as well as elvhen. I may fall tomorrow, to darkspawn, demons, mercenaries." Rana defended. "It is important to me for my clan to share and celebrate in this occasion. It is important to me that he is accepted."

"He is a Warden, so he is honored among our people," Marethari stated. "Not everyone will be happy to see you joined with a human. It will bring shame to our clan. You are sure about this?"

"I love him. I want to share my life, what is left of it, with him. We are stronger together than apart. And while I may be absent, I don't want to be a stranger to my clan, my family."

Marethari sighed again and shook her head. "You are so much like your father sometimes." She stood up. "I will think on this. I do not wish to keep you from your happiness. I would first like to get to know the boy better."

Rana bowed slightly in appreciation, heart in her throat. "Ma serranas, Keeper. That is all I ask."

"I take it you have not told any of your kin about this yet."

Rana shook her head. "Ashalle knows, but promises she won't say anything until I'm ready."

The Keeper nodded sagely. "That is wise. I will speak to her, since she has spent more time with you. Then, when I come to a decision, we can tell the others together. Good night, da'len." She turned to leave.

"Good night, Keeper."

And then she was alone.


	2. Chapter 2

Dawn arrived, leaving Rana with scant few hours of sleep. She opened her dry eyes and dragged herself up, her muscles protesting on account of the hard march the previous day. She gathered up some gear and clean(ish) clothes, making a mental note to do some washing before they left, and climbed out of her tent to find the nearest watering hole. 

As she made her way to the edge of camp, some of the off-duty hunters, mostly male, offered an escort. She just wanted directions, and they reluctantly obliged. She thanked them, wishing them a good morrow and disappeared into the wood.

It was early yet, so the quarry was empty. Rana found a secluded spot where she wasn't likely to be disturbed if others came. She wasn't in the mood to tell more tales of her adventures this early.

She stripped and slipped into the cool water with a gasp. The shock of the temperature wore off soon enough and she dipped her head under the water to get her hair wet, flipping it back. 

A snap of twigs caught her attention and she turned, hand going to her knife. Alistair approached, and she set it down slowly. She hadn't heard his normal clanking gait as he wasn't wearing his armor and instead wore leather breeches and a linen shirt.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed, moving up to the ledge of the pool.

He knelt in front of her, concern plain in his eyes. "We haven't had a chance to talk."

"Yes, but we can't be seen together like this," she warned, voice low.

Something like hurt flashed across his face but quickly changed to understanding. "I figured this was good a place as any. Private, secluded."

She snorted and turned away to continue bathing. "For now." She sighed. "I guess we can't really talk about this at the camp. If this was the old camp, I'd bring you to the ruins," she grumbled. "Okay, fine. Let's talk, but we need to be brief." She looked up at him, her eyes softening. "I'm sorry," she started.

He shook his head. "I understand. I'm just feeling a bit isolated. Is this what you deal with every day you're away from your clan?"

She waded to the edge of the pool and raised her arms onto the flat surface of a rock, leaning toward him. "It's not so bad. Most of the time, you're mistaken for a servant until they realize your position and start to backtrack. That's amusing. And sometimes someone calls you a rabbit or dirty knife-ear, but you learn to shrug it off, especially when you could probably take their ears off with a knife." 

He grinned, relaxing into a sitting position. "Remind me never to get on your bad side. I'm sure you've proved a point to many people, most of whom are influential, with your position as Warden-Commander. I guess I can't complain much, I'm generally ignored and avoided as a human for the most part."

Drawing circles on the rock with water, she reasoned, "They're just being cautious. Our interactions with humans haven't always been sunshine and rainbows, you know. It was frightening for me, leaving with Duncan, possibly on the verge of death from darkspawn poison."

He grimaced. "I promise I'll never complain again." He paused as he struggled for words."I just miss you. Have you had a chance to talk to your Keeper?"

She hesitated. "She said she wants to get better acquainted with you. Not everyone will be thrilled about me joining with a human."

Alistair looked down at his hands, playing with a blade of grass. "Maybe this was a bad idea."

"No." The word was more forceful than she meant it. Rana placed her hands on his, urging him to meet her eyes. He looked everything like a sad puppy dog, making her heart wrench in her chest. "I love you, ma vhenan. Nothing will change that. If they don't like it, we'll have our joining some other way. Perhaps Arl Eamon will be able to marry us..."

Alistair smiled weakly, "You're right, but I know how much your clan means to you."

"The Keeper just wants to get to know you before she comes to a decision. She will help the others see." She looked away, worrying her lower lip.

"What is it?"

"She said something to me last night. She told me I was just like my father. He used to be the Keeper, you know, before Marethari. He fell in love with a woman from another clan. I don't know much about it, but they were attacked and he died. My mother had me and then disappeared out of grief." She shook her head. "I think I know what Marethari is worried about. But this is not the same." She made a slicing motion in the air with her arm.

"I'm... truly sorry."

She let out a long breath, calming herself. "There's nothing to be sorry for. I grew up with a big family, always loved. Anyway, how are you holding up?"

"Oh, you know, behaving myself. Feeling like an outsider." He paused, the span of a heartbeat. "Counting the days since I last touched you." She noticed his eyes roving over her body. "It's hard having to remember to not..." His words trailed off as he lifted a hand to almost touch her. She imagined what must be going through his mind, all the things she had forbidden in their time here, filling the space between them where words just wouldn't do. 

Her skin tingled pleasantly at the thoughts, but brushed then aside and smiled, laughing lightly. "Soon, ma'arlath," she promised. She would be lying if she said she didn't wish he could join her in the water, didn't miss his hands on her, his body next to hers as they slept.

They both snapped their heads up, towards voices approaching from around the bend.

"Go," she hissed, slapping his leg.

"I might, uh, need a moment," he whispered back, gesturing to his pants area.

"Then hide!" She ushered him into some nearby reeds and turned back to her bathing, pretending as if nothing happened as the others approached.

"Oh, Mahariel." Kelath and some other hunters stepped into view, holding their bathing gear. "We did not know anyone would be out here this early."

She covered herself with and arm and the water, as she turned to them. "I'm just finishing up," she assured them.

"Take your time, lethallan. There is plenty of water for us all. We'll give you some privacy." He motioned the other hunters and they turned to find another area of the quarry to occupy.

Rana sighed in relief as they left and looked over to the reeds.

Alistair crawled out and gestured that he was heading back towards camp. She nodded, smiling reassuringly, and as he turned to sneak away, sank into the water to cool the blush from her face. 

When she finished, she climbed out, drawing a towel around herself and dried off, dressed and combed through her hair. Satisfied, she set off back towards camp, passing others on their way for their morning rituals.

She found Alistair at the fire circle, talking with Marethari. She helped herself to a small breakfast of berries and porridge, listening as Alistair recounted the moment they first met and his impressions of her. He sounded relaxed with the Keeper.

"I can't say much about the ritual itself, you know, big secret order and all. She's pretty small, so I was worried. But of the other two, big burly men, she faced the ritual fearlessly and came out a Grey Warden."

"To be fair," Rana cut in, "size has nothing to do with it."

Alistair turned to look at her and flashed a smile. "That is true," he agreed, turning his attention back to the Keeper, "but it takes bravery to face the ritual."

Merethari beamed proudly. "Our Da'mi has always been the bravest hunter in our clan, the swiftest, and the most silent."

Rana grimaced. "That is not what you used to say."

"I was still proud of you, but I certainly couldn't let it go to your head. You needed something to strive for. You were reckless at times."

"She still is," Alistair agreed.

She bridled with irritation. "I'm also still your commanding officer."

"True," Alistair admitted, laughing.

Marethari smiled. "What do you know of the Dalish, Warden?"

He shrugged. "Not much, beyond what Rana has taught me over the past year."

"We do not often allow humans into our camp, much less allow them to stay for an extended period of time. The last time we had a human among us was when a Grey Warden came to investigate a ruin near our camp. When he left, he took Rana with him."

"Duncan." The name emerged as not much more than a whisper.

Marethari nodded. "He helped us, when Tamlen went missing and Rana went into a death sleep for two days. He saved her life. We honor the Grey Wardens. And after what you two have done for us, for all of Ferelden, we owe much to you and to the Grey Wardens."

Alistair nodded in acknowledgement. "We were just doing our duty, Keeper."

As Rana finished eating, a hunter walked up to the circle. "Mahariel, some of us were wondering if you'd like to spar, maybe show us some of your darkspawn slaying prowess."

She set aside her dishes. "Let me clean up and I'll be right over."

The hunter turned to Alistair as well. "You are welcome to join as well, Warden. We would welcome any of your techniques."

Before he could answer, Merethari dusted off her hands and took Rana's dishes from her. "Go ahead, both of you. Your time is better spent helping our warriors train than on cleaning and talking with an old woman."

Rana stood. "Ma serranas, Keeper."

Alistair stood as well. "It was wonderful talking with you this morning."

"My pleasure. Now go, don't keep the hunters waiting."

The hunter led them to the outskirts of camp, to a clearing large enough for fighting. 

Rana picked up some wooden training swords, one in each hand, spinning them, testing their weight. When she was satisfied, she crouched into a stance. "Who's first?"

A young female hunter stepped forward with a staff weapon. "I am Janath. I would be first, if you please."

"Janath, ready your stance," Rana instructed. 

Then, without further warning, Rana stepped forward, swinging. She side-stepped, targeting and the young warrior's flanks, but Janath blocked with the staff and swung as Rana pulled back to test more of her defenses. She slapped the staff out of the way with a blade and punched a strike in the opening, stopping the wooden blade inches from Janath's throat. Both women froze. 

"Use your body more," Rana suggested. "Don't just use your arms. Manipulate the staff from here." She slapped her torso. "It'll become an extension of your will. You're also too open on your left flank." She lowered the blades and stepped back. There were nods of approval all around.

She rounded up some of the younger hunters to demonstrate, while some of the others asked Alistair to show them his shield and sword skills. His demonstration didn't last long. Many of the hunters were archers and unaccustomed to swords or shields, so they took it upon themselves to teach Alistair to shoot.

Rana stepped up behind him as he missed the marker on the tree for the fifth time. "How are you doing?" she asked.

He let another arrow fly, missing the tree by several feet. “Just becoming the sharpest shot in Ferelden."

She laughed. "Want to call it a day?"

A hunter stepped up to take the bow and Alistair handed it to him. "Ma serranas," the templar said clumsily, to which the hunter grinned widely.

"Our pleasure, Warden."

Rana walked past them, Alistair falling into step beside her. 

"It's a good thing you're the rogue, and I'm not." 

She laughed again, "It takes practice. I wouldn't be able to wield a longsword and shield as you do. I think my arms would fall off."

Their hands almost met, but they twitched away from one another as if burned. Neither looked at the other. 

"We might as well look into equipment for our return trip," Rana said quietly. 

"Return? Already?"

"Well, the sooner we can get to Redcliffe, right?" She attempted a smile, but he wasn't looking, so she looked away too.

"I'm rather enjoying myself, actually." 

"Is that so?" she mused.

"What else do you do for fun around here?"

"Well, it's not exactly 'for fun' as you say, but I would normally be hunting, gathering herbs, wood, materials for the craftsmen, scouting the perimeter for sylvans and other predators. There's not a whole lot to do as a guest without a lycanthrope disease spreading through the population."

"Oh yes, well, there's always the raving lunatic in the woods to steal acorns from."

She laughed out loud, a lot louder than she intended and immediately quieted herself, holding in her mirth. "That is... true."

"So? Do you want to?"

"What? Talk to a madman in the woods?"

"No, go gathering supplies for the camp. Well beyond... the perimeter?"

She smirked. "Oh? And what do you intend to gather?"

A blush rose in his cheeks but he obviously couldn't think of anything. "Oh, you know, whatever we can find."

Rana's face heated up as well, understanding his intentions. "Well then. I suppose we should retrieve our gear." 

As they headed back towards their tents, Ashalle stopped them. She wrung her fingers, worry strained her voice as she bade them to follow, "You must come with me now."

They exchanged questioning glances and followed Ashalle to the infirmary. Kelath's half-clothed body lied on a cot, bleeding from several slashes across his chest. 

"He was hurt protecting the children at the quarry. The other two hunters with him did not make it, Feren and Gareth."

Rana knelt down to inspect the wound. He seemed fevered and was muttering something in a strange language. She couldn't catch any of it. "Did anyone see what it was?"

Ashalle shook her head. "No, they came running back. They were frightened. But it looks like a wolf attack."

"You could be right." She stood. "We'll go and check this out." She looked to Alistair, who nodded gravely. 

After equipping their arms, the Wardens headed straight to the quarry.

"Tracks," Rana muttered. "Leading into the woods."

"And look," Alistair pointed at splashes of dark in the mud, "blood. Looks like it's wounded."

"They must have hit it. Or," she noticed more prints, some overlapping, "them. At least three." She shook her head. "These do not look like wolves."

They followed the path for a time and came upon some ruins. 

"Ruins! Who would have guessed?" She drew her blades and stepped forward. "Seems quiet," she remarked. 

"Doesn't it always?"

Together, they entered the dark ruins, lit only by shafts of sunlight streaming through where the ceiling caved in, giving way to the forest floor. Rana grabbed a torch and used a flint and a small amount of lyrium sand to spark a light. She lit other torches bound to sconces as they wound their way through.

"What is this place?" Alistair asked, his voice echoing in the darkness.

"It looks like a temple belonging to the ancient elvhen. It shares a lot of similarities with the one Tamlen and I found. Sometimes it's amazing how much of ourselves we have lost." She motioned to some statues of proud figures who looked like they could be elves, but taller with more prominently elongated features.

A shadow scurried far ahead of them, and they stopped, squinting in the darkness. Rana lit a few more torches and wedged hers in a crevasse in the wall. She drew her knives. Alistair followed suit. 

A shriek echoed in the cavernous halls, and a darkspawn set itself upon them. Rana lunged, pivoting as she struck, maneuvering behind the creature. Another appeared behind her and she twisted yet again, slashing with a blade, severing it's head. Ichor splashed hot in her face. 

Alistair growled as he hacked away at the first creature. Rana jumped forward, sticking her blade into its back and she twisted it, plunging it deeper. The creature ceased flailing and she kicked it aside, wrenching her sword from its body.

It was quiet again.

She wiped filth from her face, managing to reduce it to smears. "There will be more," she warned, hefting the torch, and continued onward.

There were indeed more darkspawn, along with some reanimated corpses, and spiders, so many spiders, all of which they exterminated with ease.

"Why does it always have to be spiders?" she groaned, shuddering as one shriveled up in death throes before her.

The final chamber was a tomb, having combed over the rest of the ruins gathering what treasure and resources they could find, picking the site clean.

"No signs of traps or secret exits," Rana commented after a sweep of the room. "But I feel something here."

"Yes," Alistair agreed. "A malicious presence." 

The air grew cold then, drawing a shiver from Rana. She exhaled, her breath turning to frost. She looked up in time to see a demon rising behind Alistair, arm raised to deliver a blow. Rana knocked the templar out of the way, and the demon arm came down on her, throwing her to the floor. Cold lanced through her chest and down her arm. She cried out.

Alistair yelled something, rising to his feet and battered at the demon with his shield.

Fingers numb, she had dropped one of her swords. She staggered to her feet, breathing heavily and leaning against a wall. Her arm was a dead weight at her side. She spat and wiped blood from her lips as she stood upright. She leaped forward and slashed with her remaining sword arm, spinning to evade another attack from the demon's arms. Alistair kept it busy as she worked her way around, slashing and striking. 

The demon roared and with a sweep of its arms, flung the knight against a sarcophagus. It spun its attention to her next, but she ducked to the right, sweeping her dagger through where its knee was supposed to be. Rana launched herself up as it staggered, stabbing her weapon into its arm in an attempt to sever it. She managed to disable it before it hurled her away.

Alistair recovered and charged, knocking the demon back with his shield and brought his sword down, taking off most of the creature's head. It gurgled out of its lower jaw and fell to the floor. He stabbed it once more, just to be sure it was dead.

Rana collapsed to the floor, breathing hard. "My arm," she gasped. 

"Let me see." Alistair knelt next to her and examined her arm. The skin was cold to the touch, crystals forming on her fingertips. He dug through the pack and gently rubbed an ice salve into her skin. 

She sighed at the immediate relief and moved her fingers experimentally as feeling returned. They sat on the floor of the tomb for some time in front of the body of the demon, catching their breath.

"Finally alone," Alistair remarked.

She laughed. "And covered in darkspawn blood. Hardly attractive."

"Don't forget about the guts," he reminded her.

She sighed and climbed to her feet. "Let's get out of here." She offered her hand to help him up, which he took and nearly pulled her down on top of him.

They returned to the camp, encountering nothing more on their way back. They entered the infirmary area and found the Keeper standing over Kelath who was sitting up.

"How is he?" Rana asked.

"The fever broke and he came to about twenty minutes ago," Marethari murmured.

Alistair looked to Rana. "That was when we defeated the demon."

"A demon?" the Keeper asked, turning to them.

"There were some ruins the darkspawn were holing up in. A demon had taken up residence in the innermost crypt. Alistair felled the foul creature." Rana explained.

Kelath lifted his head. "I don't remember anything that has happened since I saw you this morning, Mahariel. But it sounds like I owe you both my life. Ma serranas."

"It's important that you rest," Rana told him gently.

He nodded and eased back.

The Keeper led them away. "I thank you, both of you for everything you've done for us. One of our own owes you his life, Warden Alistair. It is a rare thing for us to welcome one such as you into our fold." She paused, appearing to compose herself. "We are preparing a... I suppose you would call it a memorial... for the hunters who lost their lives today. We would like you to join us."

Alistair bobbed his head in a small bow. "I graciously accept, thank you. But it was no more than our duty to lend aid."

"We need to prepare the bodies. The memorial will be at sunset."

"We will be there, Keeper." Rana bowed her head as Marethari turned away.  She tugged on Alistair's arm. "Come on." 

They made their way back to the watering hole where they silently washed the gore from themselves. 

Not entirely clean, but no longer reeking of darkspawn, Rana sat back on a moss covered rock, rubbing idly at a stubborn stain. "If only I'd stayed here at the quarry just a little longer."

Alistair shook his head, frowning. "You weren't any more prepared than they were. No matter how much more skilled you were, you'd have been fighting without the protection of your armor. You could have been hurt too, or worse."

She drew her legs up. "I just can't believe they're gone. Feren and Gareth. They trained with Tamlen and I. We became hunters together." Her voice sounded heavy to her ears, no intonation of sorrow or anger. They'd seen their share of deaths and loss in the past year. Here were two more. Each one felt personal, like a lance through her chest, but it was becoming all too common.

She slid from the rock and stood  crossing her arms. "The night will be spent saying farewell to Feren and Gareth. On the morrow they will be buried and we will plant a tree over each of their bodies. But the camp will need to move again to get away from more darkspawn."

Alistair crouched over the water, rinsing his helm. He shook his head. "Why are the darkspawn here? The Blight is over."

"Maybe not all have returned to the deep roads yet. Or maybe something is keeping them away. We should head to the Amaranthine and prepare for the new Wardens."

He stood and shook the water from his helm. " You're right. Let's make sure we have the supplies we need."

What about Redcliffe? She could see the question in his eyes. She wasn't sure if there was time for that now. 

She said nothing and turned away from him. "All set?"

He sounded far away. "Let's go."

The sun was beginning its descent of the evening as they approached camp. The smell of pine and oil was in the air. Rana led him to a clearing where the trees parted to open up for the sky. Most of the Dalish had gathered around beds of wood, leaves and moss, cradling the bodies in the center of the clearing. 

Rana stepped up next to Kelath who leaned heavily on a staff, and Alistair drew up behind them. Kaleth's expression was pained, but Rana doubted it was because of his wounds. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

Keeper Marethari stepped into the clearing, standing in front of the funeral beds her new First at her side. She raised her hands to call for silence, but there was no need. "Today we honor the lives of Feren and Gareth. They stood with Kaleth and protected our little ones. Their sacrifices will not be forgotten. Let us remember how they lived as we return their bodies to the soil." She turned to face the recumbent hunters and recited a prayer over them.

She faced the gathering once more, and held an arm out to Alistair and Rana. "Our own daughter is the Hero of Ferelden. She and her Warden companion have saved us again this day. Their actions brought Kelath back from the edge of the Veil so that we did not lose him too."

There was pride in the eyes of Rana's clansmen, quiet but fervent.

"Today, we will do something we have never done before," Marethari continued.

"We will welcome a human into our clan. From this day forward, Warden Alistair Theirin, you are part of the Sabrae clan."

"You... honor me greatly. Truly. M-ma serranas," Alistair stuttered clumsily, bowing.

Rana began to panic, her heart beating wildly in her chest.

"As a member of our clan," Marethari went on, "you are to bond and join with our daughter Rana Mahariel."

Gruff and serious expressions of approval and affirmations arose from the gathered Dalish.

Alistair found her hand and squeezed. Hard.

That was it. Rana's heart finally had enough pounding against her chest and all but stopped. She barely found the breath to speak. "Keeper, I-."

"Hush, child," Marethari chided. She turned to address the rest of the clan. "We must prepare to move on to new hunting grounds, so there is little time. For now, let us feast and remember. And tonight, we will consecrate a joining."


	3. Chapter 3

Rana felt drunk. Her head spun, her heart was pounding. She knelt next to Alistair, their heads bowed in front of Marethari at the fire circle. She watched him, moving her eyes but not her head, and found him staring at her, a grin plastered across his face. He was absolutely giddy. Her lips twitched into a small smile and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep it at that.

She couldn't hear anything the Keeper was saying. Should she be paying attention?

Alistair grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. She looked at their hands in confusion and then up at his face. He beamed at her and leaned down to kiss her. It was fast, chaste, but he lingered, hunger roiling off him.

Her face heated up. The butterflies in her stomach bubbled up and emerged as a burst of laughter. They were joined at last, married in the eyes of her clan. Guilt crept up in her gut, a reminder they shared this day of joy when two others had lost their lives.

There was much feasting that night, more stories, and more than one dark look shot their way. But for all the disapproval, they received well wishes threefold. Keeper Marethari stood by them, proud. 

Kelath offered a toast, subtly hinting that he'd spotted them that morning together at the quarry. No one noticed the deep red blushes on their faces in the firelight.

The clan drank and ate well into the night, celebrating the union and remembering those who were lost.

Rana yawned. The action, grief, and excitement of the day was catching up with her. She leaned on Alistair's arm as he led the way to her tent. He hesitated before entering, but she grabbed his arms and dragged him in bodily.

He nearly knocked her over, but regained his balance and wrapped an arm around her thin waist pulling her to him. She felt the sharp edges and points of his armor through hers and squirmed against him. She reached up, pulling his face down to hers and kissed him.

His lips responded in kind as he kissed her back, languid and tender. When they broke apart, he brushed her hair from her face and whispered, "My wife," trying the words out loud.

She began removing his armor, nimble fingers working the clasps and straps. It was almost a ritual between them, one she sorely missed. "Husband," she replied with a wry crook of a smile.

She slipped his gauntlets off, his vambraces, dropping more pieces of his armor to the ground with clangs and clunks. His chestpiece and and halberk followed.

His fingers found the clasp on her battle skirt and he peeled it away. Then slowly, meticulously he unstrapped her breastplate and removed it, leaving her in naught but her small clothes.

"This is real," he murmured in disbelief. "We're actually married." He nuzzled her neck and eased her body to the floor.

She laughed. "Technically we have more paperwork to do when we get to Amaranthine before it's official."

He growled and nipped at her shoulder. "Let me have this."

She yawned and stretched in his arms, threatening to curl up and go to sleep. "We have to rise early tomorrow, ma vhenan," she reminded him.

"That's not going to stop me," he warned, his voice husky with want. She shivered. 

He traced a finger up her side and hooked it around her breast band, unclasping it and giving it a tug. She arched her back, pressing against him, capturing his lips with her mouth. He groaned when her hips ground against his, discarding the clothing article. His lips moved to her neck and he cupped an exposed breast with his hand, trailing his other down her stomach and didn't stop as he slid the rest of her small clothes down her legs, tossing them away.

"No fair," she complained and slipped her hands underneath his shirt, caressing his taut muscles as she lifted his shirt over his head.

He kissed her then. "Maker, you are beautiful." His voice thrummed in her ear.

His fingers slid through her soft folds and found the bundle of nerves that made her hips buck into his hand. He leaned down and crushed his lips against hers, muffling her moans as her fingers tangled themselves in his hair. Her breath quickened as he hit her sensitive spot just so and she pulled his hair, drawing a hiss from between his teeth.

He trailed kisses down her neck, nipping and biting at her flesh, each one sending tingles down her spine. His lips made it to her breast and he licked a ring around her areola and took a pert nipple into his mouth, tweaking it with his tongue. He dipped low, tasting her abdomen before continuing down, plunging his tongue into her depths.

She arched her back, biting on a knuckle to keep from crying out. He kissed her clitoris and suckled on it, running his tongue over her. She gasped and bucked her hips into his mouth and he gripped her hips, holding her there, lapping her up eagerly. She gripped his hair as her body trembled, using him as an anchor as he carried her over to the next world with a few skilled licks. Climax crashed over her and she bit down hard on her hand, barely muffling the moan that escaped her lips.

Alistair grinned as he moved back up her body to kiss her lips, her face, as he slipped a finger into her hot core, groaning at how tight she felt. She bit her lip to keep from crying out. He nipped at her earlobe as he slid in and out and she squirmed beneath him, making his manhood twitch against her thigh. 

"It's been too long," he murmured against her neck. He added a second finger, stretching her, causing her to arch against him, delivering such delicious friction to his arousal. He groaned.

"Ma vhenan?" The words came out in breathy sighs, slurring together. She was having a hard time with words. Her fingers were already undoing the laces of his breeches.

"Yes, my love?"

She ran a strong leg down the length of his, sliding his trousers off along with his small clothes. He kicked them away. 

"Make love to me already."

The words, hot and breathy against his ear was all he needed. "Your wish is my command." 

He positioned his hips, pressing his tip against her entrance, plunging into her depths slowly. She gritted her teeth and dug her nails into his back. He pulled out and slid deeper into her, kissing the tears forming at the corners of her eyes. He gently thrusted, stretching her, burying himself deeper with each movement. She twitched around him and he stopped, letting her get used to him.

He wrapped his arms around her and effortlessly lifted her small body into his lap. She wrapped her legs around him. He brushed her hair out of her face and kissed her softly. 

"Husband," she admonished shakily.

He hummed against her neck and rolled his hips into her. Her breath hitched. She arched into him, and he took the opportunity to wrap his arms around her, holding her close to him. He rocked into her, and she responded with a gasp, raking her fingers down his back.

His thrusts found the spot that made coherent thought difficult. Her mouth opened in a silent scream, moving with him. He gripped her hips, leveraging each thrust as he pounded up into her. She tightened around him, squeezing his waist with her thighs and bit down on his shoulder, moaning against him as waves of pleasure washed over her.

She raised her head suddenly as she crested the waves and her walls came crashing in on him, crying his name into the night. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, tilting her back to the floor, his thrusts becoming more erratic. He was close. She tightened around him again, and he came undone. He groaned as he spilled into her.

He collapsed beside her, careful not to crush her underneath him. He nuzzled her neck, holding her close, and she relaxed underneath him, breath slowing as she drifted to sleep. "I love you, ma vhenan," he murmured.

She smiled at his pronunciation. Almost right.


End file.
